Discordance: Memories Submersed
by Luminescent Ashes
Summary: After years, Hibari is plagued with recollections of the past. His memories get the best of him, and he finds himself in turmoil due to developing feelings for the infamous Rokudo Mukuro. His performance slips and he suffers the consequences. 6918/1869
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: My love for Katekyo Hitman Reborn! has caused me to believe that there is not enough fanfiction out there to fuel the fans of the series. I had an urge to _write_ and suddenly I found inspiration in various things. I hope this story sparks your interest.  
**

**Summary: After years, Hibari is plagued with recollections of the past. His memories get the best of him, and he finds himself in turmoil due to developing feelings for the infamous Rokudo Mukuro. His performance slips and he suffers the consequences. 6918/1869  
**

**Rating: M for Mature Content.  
**

**Warnings: Character death, language, character abuse, yaoi, alternate universe, and maybe some spoilers.  
**

**Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and all its characters belong to Amano Akira.**

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**Discordance: Memories Submersed**

**_Prologue_  
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_It all happened too fast._

_One second there was sound, and the next, the silence was deafening._

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* * *

_

"_It's going to be dangerous," she said. "Come home as quickly as you can."_

_A pause. A smile. A pat on the head._

"_Your father will be home early today. Once he returns, we can celebrate your birthday, alright? I can't believe you're already five…"_

_He smiled, extending his arms to wrap around her in an embrace._

"_Alright, mother. I'll be right home."_

_With that, he took his bento from his mother's hands and slipped outside. School would be uneventful._

"_Ah! Kyouya!"_

_His mother was calling. He spun on his toes and ran back to her, coming to a halt before her. He straightened his posture and ran a hand over his clothes to smooth out his uniform before addressing her._

"_Yes, mother." It was more of an automatic response, a practiced action, rather than a question._

_A giggle._

"_I love you, my adorable little skylark."_

_He grinned in return._

"_I know, mother."_

_

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_His classmates were all idiots—all children who didn't understand the seriousness of the world. He wouldn't pretend that he was normal. He didn't care about fitting in._

_Normality was overrated. Toys were overrated. Friends were overrated._

_It really didn't matter to him—the names nor lives of the other students. Hell, he liked the school facility better than the students themselves._

_School days were a blur. He didn't pay attention. He didn't need too._

_Maybe someday he could make school better…_

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_The school bells rang, and in an instant, he was gone. _

_He didn't say goodbye. He didn't care for happy birthdays. He ran__—__ran as fast as he could._

_There were more cars than usual. There was less noise than usual._

_Something was wrong._

_He sprinted as quickly as his legs would carry him. Still, it felt agonizingly slow._

_Mother…_

_

* * *

Violet. He was engulfed by violet. It was warm, comforting, and just like his mother's embrace._

_**No.**_

_This wasn't right. Someone was there._

_**Someone was there!**_

"_Kyouya, go to your room." Her voice was stern._

_**Go get the gun.**_

_One second. If he had been faster, gotten home sooner, this might not have happened. He just wanted one second._

_**The gun.**_

_He clambered up the stairs to his room, refusing to hold eye-contact with the men that watched him. He barely spared them a glance._

_He had to. He always knew this might happen. He had been prepared for it._

_All he could hear was the blood throbbing in his ears as his fingers met cold metal._

_Mother… I'm sorry._

_I won't fail you. I __**can't.**_

_**Kill her. Kill her. Kill her.**_

_One second. The air whistled as a bullet sliced through it._

_One second. A dull thud. She was dead._

_One second and there was blood. There was so much blood._

_One second._

_His father._

_One second, then the raven haired child was consumed by darkness._

_

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_**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I write this story with the intention of finishing it, and as of right now, I am merely editing the first chapter. Aside from that, I have the majority of the story outlined. I do hope that you have enjoyed this brief introduction. I look forward to writing this!**

**I would love feedback, so please review!**

**-Luminescent Ashes  
**


	2. Chapter 1: Unpleasantries

**Summary: After years, Hibari is plagued with recollections of the past. His memories get the best of him, and he finds himself in turmoil due to developing feelings for the infamous Rokudo Mukuro. His performance slips and he suffers the consequences. 6918/1869  
**

**Rating: M for Mature Content.  
**

**Warnings: Character death, language, character abuse, yaoi, alternate universe, and maybe some spoilers.  
**

**Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and all its characters belong to Amano Akira.**

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**Discordance: Memories Submersed**

_**Chapter **__**1 ****- Unpleasantries**_

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_Kyouya awoke to the sound of his father's footsteps resonating against the walls. He was painfully aware of the bile flavor that coated the inside of his mouth. It was as if he had eaten a vermin that had been run over, left to rot in the mud. He nearly gagged as his brain processed the taste on his tongue. His throat constricted and his breaths came out as ragged wheezing. The back of his throat felt like sandpaper; he was parched._

_There was a lingering scent in the air. The odor assaulted the child's senses. Metallic. Coppery. It was as if he could taste it, heavy and prominent over the bile in the cavern of his mouth. Almost as if… Blood._

_Death._

_How long had he been unconscious?_

_Clearly, he had been oblivious to the world long enough that it had been necessary for someone to carry him to his room. His hands fisted the sheets as they clenched. _

_He listened to his father's footsteps growing closer; the echoes were louder now, not as muffled by the walls and doors between them. The man would undoubtedly be at the door in just another moment._

_Kyouya swallowed hard, a small ball of air rolling, pushing painfully past the walls of his esophagus. The action did nothing to squelch his nerves; the air nearly caught in his throat._

_There was a quiet 'click' as the knob was turned. The wooden door creaked in protest as it was forced to open. A man very much like the child stepped between the doorframe._

_Kyouya pushed himself into an upright sitting position. It felt more difficult to do than the task should have been. His limbs were dead weights, seemingly weighing a ton. His movements were sluggish, as if every muscle in his body knew they bore a burden._

_Slate gray eyes tore themselves away from the sheets and rose up his father's frame. His clothes were tattered, the fringes slightly charred. The normally perfectly tailored suit seemed to be falling apart, the suit jacket hanging flimsily onto the man's broad shoulders. Dull, glassy irises met piercing, angry azure ones. The boy's face remained emotionless._

_Whatever was coming, the child would not fight it. He could not fight his father. He couldn't face his father after what he had done._

_The tall, lean figure stepped forward. Kyouya did his best not to flinch at the movement. He could not afford to show weakness. He deserved the punishments to come. Still, he had looked away; he had averted his eyes when his father approached. _

_The older man ceased movement when he reached the bed, not an arm-span away from the child—the child who had just murdered his own wife. The man bowed his head, allowing his disheveled ebony locks to frame his face. They casted dark, ominous shadows over the man's eyes, making his face look long and worn._

_Clouded silver once again made their way to examine the figure before him, this time in caution._

_Kyouya observed in silence as a single teardrop lingered in his father's eyes. It fell from his father's eyelashes, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake. The drops of water glistened in the light before streaking across the pale skin, obscuring the man's normally elegant features._

_Kyouya braced himself for questions. He braced himself to be blamed. Instead, there was a sickening 'crack' as his father's hand met his face as he brutally slapped the child. The boy's head whipped back to one side, his neck stinging from the sudden, sharp movement. Still, the boy knew the pain that he felt marring his cheeks was nothing when compared to his father's emotional pain. He knew. He didn't complain; he simply sat there, unmoving, awaiting the next attack. _

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There was a dull 'thud' as a brute force met the wall. The structure seemed to groan in protest as the metal tonfa struck, paint scratching away and plaster crumbling. There was a slight whimpering as the metallic weapon grazed past the figure's ear. Strands of russet, sienna, and wheat rustled from the sudden displacement of air. Allowing his eyelids to fall, the brunet inhaled slowly to pacify his nerves. Then, auburn eyes met steel.

Two figures were face-to-face.

A small, but surely growing, brunet with a mess of hair pointing in all directions was pressed up against the wall, facial features wound with tension. His clothes were ruffled; his sleeves were bunched up at his elbow, and his shirt was half-tucked into his jeans. Sawada Tsunayoshi. He was the boss of the Vongola family, the strongest family in the Italian Mafia, even if his family was in Japan. He had grown since he was first brought into the mafia world, albeit against his will. Still, he had room to improve before his stature would match that of his impressive status.

Tsuna barely flinched as the slightly taller male glowered at him through disheveled charcoal locks. A crease appeared on the fabric of the man's crisp charcoal suit as he leaned in exceedingly closer to the smaller body. Raven locks accented the man's features as his breathing _felt_ perilous—haunting and displeased. There was a hiss, followed by a slight growl that emitted from the said man's throat—an unnecessary warning of murderous intent. His posture said it all, and any person in their right mind would have one thought: _flee_.

"Don't fuck with me, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Tell me, what is the meaning of this?" It was a demand, barely a question. Hibari's voice was low, alerting the other of his impatience.

Meanwhile, Tsuna was doing all he could to maintain a façade of indifference, which would normally be a difficult task for someone who nearly had their skull bashed in the moments that preceded.

The slightly taller figure leaned in closer to the other, fixing him a defiant stare. The chilly, arsenic eyes were clouded with abhorrence; however, there was a speck of excitement, teetering on the verge of admiration, as if the prospect of a challenge was enticing—which it was. A passion for fighting and danger were evident, but there seemed to be another emotion, the smaller boy could see. Could that—perhaps—be sadness?

Tsuna sighed. He knew it that breaking the news to Hibari wouldn't exactly be a simple task, much less on this particular day. Hibari Kyouya was _dangerous_. The Vongola were truly fortunate that he was a guardian. Hibari Kyouya was _not_ someone that anyone in the Mafioso would want against them. The Guardian of the Cloud would not be tamed, always aloof.

Sawada Tsunayoshi really was extremely fortunate that he had not been physically injured up to this point. It was good that he had decided to tell the older man himself. Hibari respected him—at least to some degree—and the young Vongola did not wish for any of his other family members to be pitted against the cloud's wrath.

"I said what I said, Hibari-san. I need you to do what I say. Please come with us to the Vendice. I won't allow the Vendicare to keep the Vongola's mist guardian—much lest any member of my family—in captivity any longer." Tsuna spoke slowly, but clearly. His voice held authority, unlike the air of his persona, yet it wasn't cold in the slightest. He had matured since the hitman, Reborn, entered his life five years ago.

There was silence.

_Silence… Just like that time…_

"That herbivore doesn't deserve to be salvaged," Hibari stated quietly. He retreated, allowing the smaller man to move away from the wall, avoiding a beating that Hibari would have been happy to deliver years ago. The man lowered his tonfa, allowing his arm to drop to his side.

"No one deserves that fate, but it is inevitable. Some people belong there, but I won't allow my family to suffer any more. You should know better than anyone how strong Mukuro is."

Rokudo Mukuro.

The cloud guardian detested that person. His name was foul on his tongue. His hatred for the said guardian had, of course, dwindled as the years rolled by, but the feeling of feeling utterly _broken_ was still known to him.

"The illusionist is useless. You're wasting my time," Hibari whispered. He was not in the mood for talking—much less put up with uninteresting Mafioso affairs.

"Don't say that, Hibari-san! As much as the two of you may disagree, you are a lot more similar to each other than you think—"

"I will not tolerate a comparison with that filthy herbivore," the raven haired rumbled, cutting into the other's thought. "Make yourself scarce before I feel compelled to satisfy my urge to beat you into a bloody pulp for intruding into my home for insignificant matters, Sawada Tsunayoshi." The annoyance the man must have felt was evident in his tone. Hibari turned, slinging on a familiar black jacket onto his shoulders. Although he was no longer enrolled in Namimori Middle School, he was still attached to it, along with the town.

Tsuna sighed, head bowed, as he made his way to the door. It was really useless after all. The young boss knew better than to continue pressing the other when Hibari's patience was challenged beforehand, whether he knew why or not. He wouldn't put it past the former prefect to make his threat a reality.

"Sorry for intruding, Hibari-san…"

The doorknob turned; there was a screech as the door was parted from the frame.

As Tsuna stepped forward, he turned back once more, murmuring, "Six o'clock tonight…We'll be there tomorrow." He paused, hoping for a response, but was greeted with silence. Perhaps he was too wishful with his thinking.

"Oh! Happy birthday, Hibari-san."

The door closed softly behind the brunet.

* * *

"Hibari! Hibari!" The call was accompanied by a distant chirp, followed by the Namimori school hymn. The melodic voice grew louder as a small goldenrod bird appeared in Hibari's window.

The edge of the man's lips curled upwards as he made his way to the window to part it further. The bird gave a joyful cry as it slowed its decent and neatly folded its wings upon landing on Hibari's head. The creature gave a quiet '_tweet_' in recognition and proceeded to nestle itself into the raven's hair, making itself comfortable in a familiar location.

Hibari's footsteps were light on the floor as he wandered into the kitchen to get food for his companion. His steps were trained, cautious, but natural. His footsteps were that of a killer—a predator stalking its prey—soundless as to attract little attention.

The dissonant clatter pierced through the air, harsh against the stillness of the air surrounding him. He watched with disinterest as seeds piled themselves untidily onto the plastic tray.

The tension that Hibari was emanating did not go unnoticed by the aviator. He was even quieter than usual and that alone was enough for the animal to be concerned as its wings fluttered and it made to eat. It gave another chirp and nudged Hibari's hand with its head.

"Don't worry, little guy," Hibari said quietly. There was no reason for the bird to be concerned, Hibari believed. "Enjoy your food."

There was a blur of jonquil feathers as the creature spread its wings before promptly picking out seeds. The once-prefect placed a hand on the counter as he watched his companion, sighing. The bird paused in its actions and looked at the raven head with a questioning glace; however, it was short-lived before the undersized creature resumed its feeding.

A murmur escaped Hibari's mouth suddenly. "Birthdays are stupid."

Movements stilled. The bird's glance seemed to meet the man's ash ones momentarily before it stubbornly turned away.

The annoyance in Hibari's eyes seemed to diminish at the action.

"So you disagree."

Hibari Kyouya had not thought of his birthday in five years. It was just another day for him. Of course, he would recognize his age eventually, but he never celebrated his birthday. Doesn't a person grow older with every passing moment?

Five years ago…

It had been five years since he had been assimilated into the most powerful family in the mafia world. It had been five years since Dino Cavallone had been his tutor. It had been five years since he had acquired the Vongola Cloud ring. It had been five years since he was humiliated by the infamous Rokudo Mukuro. It had been five years since he had allowed the events of the past haunt him.

And still, it had been ten years since he had relived his memories.

_Fifteen years…_

Did multiples of five bare a grudge against him?

Ebony locks bounced astray as Hibari shook his head. He retrained his gaze on his feathered companion as it emptied its tray.

Silence. It clawed at him, intent on making him miserable. He wouldn't allow for that to happen.

Hibari felt a sting of pain as something pinched his hand. He glanced down, indifferent, to find a sharp, gamboge beak trying to gain his attention. It didn't hurt, it was simply unexpected. The bird paused briefly to return his companion's gaze.

Another peck. The normally porcelain skin turned scarlet where it was abused.

"Alright," Hibari sighed, standing.

There was a cheerful chirp as the previous prefect retrieved his coat and shut the door gently behind him.

* * *

By dusk, the Japanese man found himself kneeling before a tombstone. He simply remained in that position, head bowed in respect.

"Mother…" His voice was barely over a whisper, yet it seemed to be amplified as it rang through the deserted graveyard. He had not said the word for years; it felt foreign on his lips.

The air seemed to chill, as if reflecting his mood.

May 5th wasn't meant to be like this. It was Children's Day, and an event for the innocent ones weren't meant to be full of grief. The children didn't need to be burdened with the life that he had lived, even if he believed that they were far too ignorant.

The prefect found himself on his feet as the wind picked up.

"I'm sorry."

Hibari lifted his head higher. His deceased mother wasn't anything new, after all.

As he turned, a single cherry blossom landed on the grave, carried from the trees at the gate. Glancing up at the sky, he sighed. It was still light—the evening was still young.

"I have nothing better to do."

With that, the stoic expression the man wore slid off his face. It was replaced with a grin, the smile feral and hungry. His eyes, though not all the emotions had disappeared, revealed his lust for blood. He was in need of excitement, and what better way to get adrenaline coursing through your veins than danger—a challenging battle? His prey had already been picked, and when a carnivore's hunger is insatiable, he'll do anything to find temporary satisfaction. He would get what he wanted.

It was time to pay the Vendice a visit.

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**Author's Note: I can't particularly say that I was satisfied with the second half of this chapter, but it gets the job done. It's much better than the original version, anyways. There isn't really much for me to say, except that I think Hibari would have an understanding relationship with Hibird (and Roll, but yes, uh, Hibird).**

**Hopefully the second bulk of this chapter didn't make you lose interest. Chapter one is always a pain to write.**

**_(Edit: 10/2/11) Chapter 2 is still in progress. I haven't forgotten about this story, I've just been dissatisfied with what I've written._  
**

**Please review. Feedback is appreciated.**

**- Luminescent Ashes  
**


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